


For my life, still ahead

by c_cherrybomb_b



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: A lot of sleeping, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Assassins & Hitmen, Bipolar Disorder, Cats, Depression, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fights, Freddies a drama queen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Or Is It?, Overthinking, Sad, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Smile Era, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, a lot of laying in bed, eventual maylor - Freeform, it gets happy at one point i swear, sleeping as a coping mechanism, so idk, well its pretty early on i guess, ”murder”
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 16:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18167309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c_cherrybomb_b/pseuds/c_cherrybomb_b
Summary: Brian goes through depressive episodes. They usually came and went, so why has this one lasted 5 months?He sets out to end it all in a way that wouldn’t be so hard on his best friends. So what does he do? He hires a hit man. On himself. It doesn’t work out so well, though.





	1. impress the empress take a shot now

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! i got this idea a few days ago and i had to write it! I write almost everyday, but i still am not the best writer... i think.  
> Fair warning, If you’re struggling with any of the things on the tags, maybe steer clear away from this fic.  
> Another warning, This isn’t meant to call people with mental disorders “crazy.” I write from perspective and try to get the thoughts accurate. I hope i don’t offend anyone.  
> okay, you can read now.

Brian went through moods. He went through emotions like pages on a book. They came and went. 

When did it start? He wasn’t really sure. He knew that his grandma was bipolar, and it got pretty serious at times. His mother told him she would spend days humming to herself and cleaning, only to stay bedridden for a week because she couldn’t find it in her to get up. She was too depressed. Then, around his teen years, he had also started getting these depressive periods, but not wanting to be a bother, he put on a forced smile and dealt with it on his own. Well, his mother still had her suspicions, but brian brushed it off. Cheerfully...Or frustrated...Or however he felt that day. 

And, when he went off to college, it only got worse.  
When he finally moved in with Freddie, Roger, and John, they noticed. They knew. But they didn’t treat him like he was crazy or made of glass, which brian appreciated with all his heart. They were always very understanding and knew when to back off or help sometimes.  
Often, these moods were not the happiest. Don’t get him wrong, he was happy too. The band, though new, had given him some of the happiest moments he has had. But, he also doubted himself a lot. His friendships, his place. Did anyone really care for him? Were his friends really his friends? Was he too emotional? Did any of this really matter? 

Usually, they went away in a week or so and he would feel a bit better. 

But laying in his bed right now, in the dark, as freddie fret and stroked his hair, concerned, he decided he couldn’t take this shit anymore. 

This depressive episode that has lasted 5 months.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
in the beginning it started off the same. He woke up and looked in the mirror, feeling more tired than usual. He wore a dull frown on his face.

His mind wandered about how he had woken up the other day at least annoyed at the fact he had woken up instead of sleeping in. Now? He didn’t really feel anything. He looked in the mirror and his expression made no attempt to move. 

So he stayed and stared and waited for a shift. And nothing happened. Then he forced himself to stand up and do something with the little energy he possessed at the time. 

‘It’ll pass.’ he thought monotonously ‘Don’t be a crybaby and get your stuff done.’

But it didn’t.

2 weeks after it had first started, nothing changed. Brian was confused. What was his shit brain planning now? He had uni and band stuff to do, his thoughts had to shift from self wallowing to something else at some point. 

The next week his friends had started to noticed. Well, John and Freddie did, but Roger, the bone head, seemed to notice nothing was wrong. He had grown fairly quiet, to far lost in his thoughts and roger had whined at him for not giving his opinion on a dynamic change. He was shut up by a warning look from freddie, and seemed to quickly realize what was going on. On the other hand, Brian was completely embarrassed. Freddie had treated him like a goddamn ticking time bomb. Like a girl on her period ready to throw a temper tantrum.  
He gave himself a few mental blows for being such a sentimental child.

By the 7th week he had felt cold and distant and miserable. His band mates were softer with him and more understanding, which tinted brian’s grey emotion scheme with a hint of annoyance.

“I’m not made of glass john. I won’t shatter if you raise your voice at me and say things as they should be said.” He said coldly when John softly informed him he had missed a rehearsal. 

He had the decency (deacon-cy) to look awkwardly away and brian focused his eyes down again to the newspaper he wasn’t reading.  
He knew he missed the damn rehearsal. He did that on purpose. To see if they would get mad at him. To see if Freddie would smack the back of his head and give him the cold shoulder as he usually did if someone missed a rehearsal.

And what happened? 

He got a reminder from john and a soft spoken order to go rest and make sure to remember the next one from Freddie. 

He snapped. 

“What the hell?!” He growled, showing more emotion than he had in weeks. “What is this...this special treatment i’m getting?!” 

Before Freddie has a chance to respond, Brian had turned around and stormed into his and Rogers’ room, slamming the door behind him. Leaving the others shocked and confused.

His outburst wasn’t mentioned once, but Brian still though about it everyday, angry at himself. 

And then came the fourth month. 

Brian could barely get out of bed. Roger would have to, quite literally, drag him out of it. 

“Come on Bri. You might be skinny but you’re bloody heavy.” He joked, though brian could hear the undertones of worry behind it.

“I got it.” he mumbled. “You don’t have to baby me.” 

The next week Freddie casually asked if he had any songs he wanted to show him. Brian shifted uncomfortably. He did. But they were horribly depressing. As soon as freddie would lay eyes on them he would chuck brian to a therapist. No doubt.

Turns out, he didn’t even have to show freddie the songs for him to suggest therapy.

“Dear,” Freddie had started one day when they were alone in the flat. “Have you ever...thought about...going to talk with someone?”

Brian’s eyes shot up to stare at Freddie, who seemed a bit flustered. Not like him at all.

“You mean like a therapist.”  
Brian said dryly. Freddie’s eyes wandered nervously for a second and then he nodded.

“Yes. I think it might be a good idea, dear.” 

Brian nodded. “Mhm. You think i’m crazy.” 

Freddie’s eyes widened. “No! No not at all darling! i just think-“

“That i’d better go before i lose my mind? Got it fred.” He said, his expression stone. 

Freddie’s bottom lip trembled, more than frustrated.  
“Damn it Brian! You know i don’t mean that!”

“Then what do you mean, Freddie?” Brian shot back, enraged.

“I just mean you look so tired all the time bri! You’re hurting and i can tell and it’s hurting us too! Why do you never seem to want any sort of help!?”  
Brian didn’t want to admit that Freddie was right. Maybe he should go see a therapist. Talk out all his problems and...get told he was crazy...probably get meds forced down his throat and uselessly take up time. 

“Because I. don’t. need. help. I’m fine. You’re making things up.” He hissed

“No i’m not.” Freddie protested. His eyes were big and emotional.

“Brian. Please. You can’t deal with this yourself. No one can. It’ll help so much if you go and try.” He pleaded. Brian frowned. 

“Not now fred.” He mumbled,and he got up and left the room, retreating to his bedroom to have a good cry.

The 5th month was hell. 

Freddie had bought up therapy again, but Brian had got up and left before Freddie could even finish saying what he wanted to say. He heard Freddie get up and chase after him. 

“Brian!” He shouted angrily. “What’s up with that?!” 

“I don’t want to talk about this.” He said simply, closing the blinds and the lights to get ready to wallow in silence. 

“You never want to dear!” 

“Jesus fred SHUT UP AND GET OUT!” Brian screamed. The room went quiet and Brian paled.

“I feel sick.” Was all he said before he ran into the restroom and threw up. His hands gripped the bowl of the toilet as he gagged. He felt a hand pull back his hair and another go soothingly up and down his back. 

Tears burned in his eyes as the little he had for breakfast spilled out. He heard freddie mumble words of comfort as the vomiting slowly came to a stop. Coughing into the bowl, He contemplated what just happened. What had happened? One moment he felt absolutely nothing, and the next the guilt of screaming at freddie along with 500 other different emotions made him physically sick. His head hurt like hell and he was both physically and mentally exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. Sleep forever. 

“-an? Brian.” He heard. The sound was a bit fuzzy but it was obviously Freddie.

Forcibly, he lolled his head upwards and stared at Freddie with a blank look.  
“Huh?”

Freddie sighed in obvious relief, then bit his lip.

“You look like shit,dear.” He whispered.

“Sorry. I’m sorry fred.” He croaked, feeling horrible.

“It’s okay my dear. it’s my fault for bringing it up, even though i knew it upset you.” He apologized softly, and Brian felt him run a hand through his hair.

Brian felt his face turn red. He didn’t need freddie to be careful around him, but before he could say something, Freddie spoke.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,shall we?”

That day Brian slept more than he had in weeks.

And the week after was when he finally decided. 

He had come back from his astrology class, trying to keep angry, frustrated tears at bay.

He hadn’t been paying much attention in class the last few weeks and had payed the price. He had a test that he didn’t study for and had to guess his way through everything. 

He never thought he would say it, but he needed to get drunk.  
2 hours later, he was stumbling into the flat, his mind foggy as he clumsily opened the door.  
When he got in, there was laughing and gasps. 

“Bullshit! you cheated!” He heard Rogers voice ring out, shooting up and crossing his arms angrily over a scrabble board. He saw Freddie smirk and John rolled his eyes with a playful smile on his face. He had a sudden urge to cry.  
They were having so much fun...They didn’t need him... 

Wait.

What was he thinking? That was an extremely selfish thought from him. What an idiot. He started making his way to his room, dejected, until Freddie’s eyes met his. Freddie’s smirk turned into a huge smile. 

“Oh! Brian! You’re here! We were ju-“  
He stopped as his eyes narrowed. 

“Are you...drunk?” He asked, surprise evident on his face. Laughter faded off as both John and Roger looked at him. 

His face burned in embarrassment but he waved it off slugly.

“No’m not, just tired.” He muttered, and started to walk towards his room once more. 

“Stop.” He heard Roger call out. He turned to him, a bit annoyed. 

Roger was squinting at him. Studying him and his eyes. Brian shifted uncomfortably.

“You’re obviously drunk.” Roger frowned. “Why are you drunk? You NEVER get drunk.”  
He saw John give Freddie a nervous look and Freddie shrug back, worried.

“It’s nothing rog. Drop it.” He said sharply. 

“What.happened?”

“Why are you suddenly interested?” 

“Why are you suddenly drunk?” Roger snapped back.

“Loves.” Freddie started a little hesitantly “Just calm down-“

“No freddie look!” Roger said, frustrated, pointing an accusing finger at Brian. “He’s gone and drunken his bloody problems away!”

He glared at Roger. He wasn’t wrong. Just an asshole. 

“Guys...” John said quietly. Roger ignored him, glaring back at him.

“What? You think drinkings gonna help you? Suck the fucking depression out of you?!”

“Roger!” John cried out, horrified at Rogers’ words. Roger ignored him again, still staring daggers at brian. 

He felt his chest well up with red hot anger, holding a fist so hard his knuckles paled. In his drunken mind at that moment he wanted nothing more then to scream and cry and hit something. Anxiety and anger mixed in his chest and he suddenly felt dizzy. But he refused to back down. 

“Why does it fucking matter to you, prick. You’re not my goddamn babysitter“

“Maybe you need one-“ 

“Enough!” Freddie snarled and Roger stamped his foot on the ground, seething.

“No! He’s starting to ruin himself, Freddie! We should have just dragged him to the therapist when i told you! But no, you listened to john instead-“ 

“You wanted to what?” He exclaimed angrily.  
Roger looked at him again, his cloudy blue eyes glistening slightly.

“Send you to therapy? Yea! It was my idea in the first place, and these asshats wanted your permission even though i knew you wouldn’t say yes! AND NOW LOOK! You’ve dealt with your shit by drinking yourself dry!” 

Fury rushed through Brian’s body. This asshole wanted to send him to therapy against his own will? 

“And it was right of them. You can’t send me there forcibly. Like i said your not my babysitter-“

“it doesn’t matter!” Roger screeched.

“And why are you being such a fucking hypocrite? Don’t act as if you’re a perfect angel and you’ve never done this before.”  
Brian said hotly. It’s true. Roger usually drank when he was angry. It wasn’t just him. And roger had done it many more times than he had!

“Yea but i’m not-“ Roger started, then stopped.  
Brian’s expression went stone cold. The room got deadly silent and Brian could see regret flashing in Rogers eyes.

John looked scared, nervous eyes darting between them, and Freddie looked extremely conflicted. 

But Brian couldn’t care less at that moment.

“Say it.” He said in a quiet, cold voice. He didn’t think he could sound so detached. 

“Say it.” He said again. Roger winced, and brian got a sense of sick satisfaction out of the movement.

“Crazy?” He continued, speaking through clenched teeth. “Depressed? What was it, Roger?” 

Roger breathed heavily, anger still there.  
“You know that’s not what i mea-“

“Then what was it, Roger?” He interrupted, his voice deathly calm and baring no emotion.  
Roger opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it, but kept staring intensely at Brian. He let his temper get the best of him and turned around, not waiting for an explanation, because he knew Roger didn’t have one.

He heard footsteps following him as he entered the room and crawled into his bed, but didn’t turn around to see who it was. He didn’t care. He felt tears well up in his eyes once again. He just wanted to lay in his bed forever. Just sleep forever...just...die. 

Die, right? Why not? 

He knew why not. It was a selfish thing to do, but at this point it had not been the first time he thought of death. Wow. He really wasn’t right in the head, was he? 

And that’s how he got here in bed, Freddie stroking his hair with a trembling hand and soothing him. That’s when he decided he really can’t take this shit anymore. 

How, though? He didn’t want to seem selfish. He wanted this to be as painless for his...friends as possible. 

Then, he got a horrible idea. 

What if he got someone to do it for him?


	2. Everything’s fine, but it’s not.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian reflects on his thoughts, and apologies are said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Just a quick note :thanks for the comments and kudos, i didn’t know if this story was a good idea but some seemed to like it so thanks! it means a lot. I’m having a bit of trouble with research and really understanding a lot that has to do with this story, so if anything seems off or seems confusing (like the parts or things don’t match up) PLEASE be sure to tell me. Thanks! enjoy this chapter (hopefully)

The thought came to him suddenly and with no mercy. He gasped, shocked at himself. He heard Freddie say his name in worry, but he didn’t care. 

How could he? He didn’t know he was capable of thinking such dark thoughts...

Then again, he was thinking about suicide. That was already horribly dark on its own. But the mere thought that he would go so far as to hire someone...

“Brian!” 

He snapped out of his daze, looking at Freddie. He swallowed his anxiety.

“..Sorry.” He said. He was still drunk. These thoughts wouldn’t stay. They wouldn’t. He was just confused, his feelings too strong. He couldn’t possibly be thinking about getting someone... to do that for...him? 

That was confusing.

And even if he did decide, those people aren’t easy to come across. A hitman? He won’t find them casually on the streets.  
‘Then FIND one.’ A small voice in the back of his head. ‘You know how much you want to die.’

“You’re worrying me, dear.” 

He turned around, frowning. He didn’t want that.

“Don’t be. Just a headache.” He muttered. 

“Are you sure it wasn’t Roger?” Freddie said softly. Brian pressed his lips together.

“Maybe.” He whispered. 

Freddie raised his eyebrows in surprise. He never talked about what was bothering him.

“Don’t pay much attention to him.” He said quietly. “Roger...He doesn’t know how to express himself. He usually ends up screaming his feelings out. He means well. He just wants to help you. You look like a sad little puppy all the time and he’s worried about you, Bri. We all are.”

Brian felt himself grow horribly guilty. Why was he hurting and worrying his friends like this? He knew what he was doing was pretty self destructive, and he knew it was making his friends concerned, but he couldn’t stop, And he didn’t want to be a bother. He grew frustrated, his nails digging into his palms. He was horrible, what was wrong with him? 

‘It’s fine, when you’re dead, the problem will be gone, and they wouldn’t have to worry.’ 

Brian’s eyes widened in shock. Ouch. 

But it was true.

He shook his head.

“Don’t worry. Just don’t do it.” 

“I can’t do that unless you talk to me, darling.” Freddie said, not pressuring, but a bit desperate, and the words escaped Brian before he could stop them. 

“I hate myself.” 

Freddie’s eyes widened, paling a bit and Brian felt his cheeks heat up. Yea, what a great idea. Say that. That will make them stop worrying. 

“Brian....Why-why do you say that?” Brian heard him whimper. 

What could he say? 

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I feel shitty the time. 

I want to die.

“I don’t want you guys to worry about me. It’s embarrassing...Forget it.” He mumbled and shoved his head back into the pillow

“No...please-“ Freddie started, then stopped. 

It was obvious Brian didn’t want to talk anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Brian awoke with the worst hangover he’s ever had. There wasn’t much to compare to, considering he didnt get drunk often , but this was horrible. He felt like his head was full of water. He groaned and sat up, making his way to get out of bed when a hand held him down. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Who...” He said quietly, trying not to move his jaw a lot. 

“It’s me.” He heard a scratchy voice say. Oh. 

It was Roger.

Brian opened his eyes, the morning light a bit uncomfortable, but could clearly see shoulder length blonde hair and pale skin. Obviously Roger. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision and saw Roger send him a small smile, holding something out to him. 

“Here.” 

He grabbed it. It was a glass of water. Thank fucking god. He downed it quickly, but was stopped halfway when Rogers have pulled it away a bit. He made a noise of protest. Roger ignored him and handed him a small pill. A pain killer. He mumbled a thanks and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it and finishing off the glass of water.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Roger looking down in what Brian assumed was guilt. He opened his mouth to ask him why he was here, but Roger beat him to it.

“I came to apologize.” He said quietly. Brian narrowed his eyes.

“I’m sure you did.” He said, a bit accusingly. That was rude. He shouldn’t have said that. Rogers just trying to be nice. He was an asshole. 

Roger frowned sadly, and Brian couldn’t take it.

“I’m sorry.. That was mean.” 

“No. I deserved it.” Roger said sheepishly, Then took a deep breath. 

“But i did come to apologize. i was a huge cunt yesterday... You were right. I’m not your babysitter, and you can make your own decisions, even if they’re pretty stupid.” He said awkwardly, and Brian was surprised. Roger never apologized like that. 

He must have really meant it. 

“And... I know i got pretty mad yesterday, and i don’t want you to think i believe you’re...crazy or...or over dramatic, or sensitive or whatever. You’re not any of that. Okay? My mouth was moving faster than my brain...” 

“Like always.” Brian said, joking. Despite the light tone, it sounded a bit forced, he realized. 

Roger let out a surprised chuckle. “Tosser.” Then, his expression softened. “You know, I was pretty fucking worried yesterday.”

A sense of guilt filled brian. “Don-“

“Let me finish. I know you don’t like us to worry, but... Don’t do this, okay? Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t create horrible habits because it’ll be hard to stop. I know you only did it once, but that’s all it takes. Don’t hurt yourself like that.” Roger said seriously. 

It kind of scared Brian. Roger was never serious. His guilt didn’t go away, it only intensified, because he knew what he was thinking of doing. 

“Okay.” He lied. 

Roger stroked a stray curl and smiled.

“So, do you forgive me?” 

Brian gave Roger a small, fake smile.

“Of course.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Roger left, and Brian was left with his thoughts. 

Thinking back to last night, he shuddered. Is he really that desperate to die and not seem like a victim? He didn’t want to hurt the closest people he had to family. 

‘If you don’t want to hurt them, maybe don’t die, idiot.’ His mind screamed at him.

‘You know damn well it’ll be a lot easier on them if you do. They wouldn’t have to worry about your difficult mood swings.’ another part of his mind screamed back.

Brian wanted to cry out in frustration. He seriously couldn’t do this anymore. That little voice in the back if his mind was right. He wasn’t worth anyone’s time, He wasn’t deserving of their worry, he was just a bother. 

If he were to hire a hit man like he was thinking of doing, It would still hurt them, but... not as much...right? They would see it as unfortunate, not depressing.

A sudden sense of urgency filled him. His bottom lip trembled. He suddenly really wanted this. He wanted to know, right now. Where can he find someone to do this? 

He though hard about it, and an idea popped into his head.

Risky, but worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Brian finally dragged himself to the kitchen, He felt small. Shy. He remembered vaguely what had happened yesterday, and felt like he had expressed too much.

But upon his arrival he was met with smiles. 

“Good morning.” John said happily. “Roger told us you two finally kissed and made up.”

Brian blushed.  
“Jesus.” He breathed, shaking his head. Roger huffed. 

“You against kissing me or something? Rude! I bet you’re not even a good kisser.” He pouted. Brian sighed.

“It’s too early for this.” He said, his face burning. Roger’s childish pout was quickly replaced with a smile. 

“I’m just messing with you, Bri. I bet you’re an amazing kisser. You can prove it later.” He winked.

“Roger!” He gasped, horrified. He didn’t admit he wouldn’t be against it. 

“Look at him, Roger, You’re scaring him. The poor lad’s about to pee his pants.” Freddie teased. John and Roger both laughed. 

A small smile found its way into Brian’s face, real for the first time in weeks. Instead of tired and empty, he felt a bit giddy. He knew it wouldn’t last, but it was nice to feel it for at least a moment.  
He almost felt happy.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A fading sensation of giddiness stayed in his stomach until later that day, When everyone was out to classes. 

He checked the clock. 1:00. If he wanted to do it, it would have to be now, until everyone returned from classes at 5:00 

With a heavy frown on his face, he made his way to the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to do research on how you hire a hit man is NOT FUN. Google, i swear i’m not trying to kill someone, i’m just a writer :(.


	3. escape from reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian goes into the bar and leaves with new information, Something he never thought he would have, and most importantly, sober.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a short chapter, i’ve had a lot on my mind. Make sure to read the end notes for important details. Enjoy!

As he walked into the bar, he was hit by a overwhelmingly strong smell of bitter alcohol. He pressed his lips together, looking around nervously.

‘You know what your here for, just ask and go.’ 

But one drink couldn’t hurt, right?

He shook his head, stopping himself. He shouldn’t. He should focus on what he came here for.

Even though he didn’t drink much, this was his favorite bar. Him and the bartender, Max, were actually good friends, and chatted whenever they ran into each other. 

And because it was a bar, he must know something, right?

Taking a deep breath, he went up to Max, weirdly nervous. Max spotted him and smiled. 

“Hey Brian, the usual?”

“Actually,” Brian started, clearing his throat “I came to ask you something.” 

“Sure, what’s up?” Max said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Do you happen to know any drug dealers?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So let me get one get one thing straight, you’re not here for drugs?” The drug dealer, Muhammad, a man with tan skin and dark hair asked, obviously confused. 

Brian shook his head. “I just need you to point me in the right direction.” 

“For?” 

Here it goes. 

“I need...” He started, looking around and lowering his voice. “I need to find a hitman.”

“Jesus, mate.” The dealer paled, but nodded his head. 

“You’re actually in luck. I happen to know one.” He said 

A sick sense of of twisted excitement bubbled in Brian’s stomach.  
“Where can i find him?” 

Muhammad took a napkin and a pen out, messily scrawling down an address and a name.  
“You can find him at that bar, he usually goes there Saturday’s. 10:00 pm.” He said, pointing to the address and the name. Derek. 

Brian cursed silently. It was Sunday, but he nodded nonetheless.  
“Great.”

Muhammad nodded back, squinting his eyes as if studying him.  
“Yea...So are you going to buy anything?”

‘Say no.’

“What do you have on you?” 

The darker man shrugged. “I have heroine on me now. it’s $10 a bag.”

‘Don’t do it. DON’T DO IT.”

‘Do it. Fucking do it. You want to. You need it.’

“No. I’m okay. Really.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking into the flat, angry tears blurred his vision.

He was so close. One nod and he could’ve gotten so close to becoming some drug addict. 

The thought of it sent his mind spiraling and he shoved his way into the restroom slamming the door behind him. 

His eyes met a vase and he saw red. 

Grabbing it with more force than necessary, he threw it to the ground in a fit of anger. The poor vase instantly shattered. Glass ran down upon his feet, and it stung.

But he didn’t care. 

Before he knew it he was on the ground, pants to his knees, his hand acting without command and taking a shard. 

‘Oh look. What’s brian going to do now? Gonna cut yourself to ribbons? Are you going to do it? Who does that? Who ruins themselves like that? Only you.’

“I know!” He said out loud, his vision blurry. Who was he talking to? Anger filled him, furious tears flooded his vision. He couldn’t do a single thing right, could he? He couldn’t just be normal? 

Before he knew it he he was furiously swiping at his skin, his eyes, anger numbing out any other emotions and he wasn’t sure why he was doing this. The world span nauseatingly. Too fast. Too much. His mind was screaming at him, and at that moment, he would’ve done anything to drop dead. To make it end. His thighs stung, but he didn’t stop 

‘Again. Do it again.’

He deserved it. He had no decency. He reached a new low.

At some point, he opened him eyes and looked at his legs. His skin was was filled with red, angry, puffy lines. Brian felt disgusted with himself. When did he get so dramatic? So ill? So impulsive? 

‘You think someone going to swoop in and save you? You don’t deserve it. You’re disgusting. Embarrassing. It’s surprising how you can even show your face to people sometimes.’

His eyes fluttered close, accepting defeat. He was tired. More than he’d ever been in his life. 

But he felt better. He had given himself what he deserved. And at the same time, any emotions he had were numbed. The pain was...addicting. 

He knew this wouldn’t be the last time he would do it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At some point, before everyone had come back from their afternoon classes, brian had limped to his bed, slowly lowering himself onto it.   
His thighs ached and stung like he had never experienced. His jeans brushed against the wounds and it burned, but he had not stopped. 

With a sigh he lied down on the bed.

Thoughts threatened to come back and taunt him, but at that point Brian had been too exhausted to let them and fight against them. 

Exhaling, He felt his body release all tension he had.

And his eyes fluttered shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, I may make some major changes to this chapter in the near future, just because of the whole drug thing. When writing it, i knew brian was probably the last person (except for deaky) to ever do drugs, but just decided to go for it. That being said, there were a few alternative ways this chapter could have gone.  
> 1\. Brian ends up punching a mirror and cutting himself using the shards  
> 2\. Brian gets cocaine instead of heroine  
> 3\. Brian does end up getting drunk and continues drinking as a coping mechanism.  
> They were probably better than the whole brian using heroine, but doing research, i found that many people who are depressed use it, so i figured i should explore all methods regarding toxic coping mechanisms. And, i thought cutting was used in most fics, so i didn’t want to reuse it. Anyways, sorry again for the short chapter and thanks for reading!


	4. Just keep breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian goes through too many emotions in 2 days and can’t cope with them, fortunately he has his friends, unfortunately he brings himself down and makes bad choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~PLEASE READ~
> 
> Hey! Before you read this, go back and re read the last chapter, as i made some MAJOR changes to it. Then come back and read this one, it will make more sense. Thanks!

Brian opened his eyes and groaned. He felt too sleepy to do anything ever again, but he knew it was later and that he slept in far too much. 

Blinking his eyes groggily and sitting up, He winced at the sharp pain in his thighs. He took a look at the clock next to him and his eyes widened. It was 4:30 pm. He really needed to get moving. 

He stood up, ignoring his legs screams of protest, and limped his way towards the living room. He distinctly heard voices. He frowned. 

“You don’t think i’m gonna sound like a girl?” He heard Rogers voice whine out. 

“No. Besides, this can be a way to finally impress himmmmm!” Freddie said back. Brian’s eyebrows furrowed. Who’s him? Did Roger like someone? Was it a male? It couldn’t be him, he was unlovable. But who was it? Was it...John? 

Deciding he’d eavesdropped enough, he tried walking normally into the living room. Rogers cheeks were red, and as soon as he turned to look at Brian, he squeaked. Brian blinked. 

“Um.” He said. 

“Sorry...” Roger said sheepishly, Turning to glare at Freddie, who was watching the scene unfold before him with a smirk. Roger suddenly perked up, shifting his attention towards him again, opening his mouth to say something, but John beat him to it

“Good morning sleeping beauty.” He teased from the couch, then his eyebrows shot up. 

“Damn brian. You look really tired... You haven’t been doing some hard drugs behind our back, have you?” He joked lightly. Everyone else giggled at the joke, but Brian stood there, his heart racing.

He knew Deaky was joking, but he nearly felt his soul leave his body. 

He sent him a wobbly smile and chuckled weakly, flinching internally at the horrible acting. 

“Noooo.” He sweared. Deaky sent him a cheeky grin and turned back to the newspaper he was reading, but Brian couldn’t force himself to relax.

He knew in some other life, where he made some other choice, that his response would be a lie.

Thankfully, no one noticed.

Roger turned to him again and smiled. 

“Hey, we were thinking of watching a movie later, we’re going to watch the great race-“

“Only because it’s your favorite...” Freddie shot at him in fake anger. Roger shushed him aggressively. 

“YEA, but still, it’s one of the best movies of all time, okay?” 

“Mhm.” Said Freddie, not convinced 

Roger waved him off, and turned to Brian with a shy smile. 

“So, you in?” 

Brian shrugged, his heart still beating out of his chest.” 

“Sure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out, it’s hard to enjoy yourself when you have anxiety that’s going through the roof. 

Sitting on the couch, he couldn’t bring himself to even eat the buttery popcorn next to him, even though he hadn’t eaten anything all day. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in to try and calm his nerves. It didn’t work. The noise and lights were stressing him out, and he didn’t know why. He suddenly felt like he would rather be anywhere but there. It was too much. His heart hammered in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach calmed, them intensified randomly. It made brian want to suddenly run out of the room. He closed his eyes and his fingers fluttered nervously on his knee.

‘Calm down, nothing is  
happening. Why are you acting like this? What’s happening now? Calm DOW-‘

He suddenly felt a hand fall onto of his. His eyes snapped open and he looked down curiously. 

Those hands? He could recognize them anywhere.

He looked beside him and smiled at the borderline timid expression Roger was sending him. Roger smiled and ran his thumb over his hand. He must have sensed his anxiety. Brian blushed, and before he could say anything, Roger turned his and head and looked torward at the screen, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Brian closed his eyes, taking another deep breath. 

See? This means Roger cared for him. He wasn’t a let down, a burden. 

‘You keep telling yourself that, and it’s not fucking true. So shut up and stop trying to convince yourself you aren’t a fucking insane bother.’ He heard the voice in the back of his mind say. 

Brian frowned. And ignored it, deciding he would rather deal with that later. 

He just wanted to enjoy this time right now .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They walked out of the living room, exchanging sleepy good nights. Except Brian.

His mind kept racing with thoughts. Why did Roger hold his hand? He was just saying something that implied he likes someone else, so why did he do that? 

Could it be that...

Brian shook his head. The thought was an absolute joke. Nobody loved him. Not REALLY, anyways. And Brian was sure it was going to stay that way. 

Still. The whole thing made him feel a bit giddy. 

After getting ready for bed, He walked into the room feeling conflicted, Roger trailing behind him. He sighed and sat on his bed. 

“You look like a sad puppy.”  
A voice sliced through the silence.

Brian looked up at Roger, who had a slight pout on his face. His cheeks heated up. He looked adorable. Roger walked over and sat down next to Brian. 

“What’s up?” He said quietly. Brian stayed quiet for a few seconds, unsure of what to say, and settled with a shrug. 

“I...i don’t know. I’m just kind of...Tired.” 

Roger nodded. 

“That’s okay, everyone feels tired sometimes. Is there a reason?” 

The whole thing was silly. Roger was acting like a goddamn therapist. Any other day Brian would scoff and turn his head, but today he was feeling a bit...talkative. 

Brian shook his head, frowning deeply. 

“No. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be feeling tired. Just a part of my obnoxious mood swings i guess. Makes me lazy.” He joked dryly. Roger swatted his thigh angrily and Brian choked back a cry of pain. Roger didn’t do it hard, but his thighs burnt almost violently at the soft swat. He looked up in shock. 

He didn’t feel mad though, Roger would have done that to anyone. 

It made him feel so much better.

“Don’t say that. Um...” Roger started. Brian looked at him, confused. 

“Promise you won’t take this the wrong way.” He said softly. Brian blinked. He couldn’t promise that, but he nodded nevertheless, hoping he could get a hold of himself.

“Whenever people have...an illness, like you- don’t...there’s no denying it Brian.” He interrupted when Brian’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something. “And it doesn’t in ANY way mean you’re crazy, okay? But, all this ‘i don’t have a reason to be tired’ talk is bullshit, because when you have to fight your brain all the time, THAT’S exhausting. Doing shit when you barely have any energy? That shits exhausting. Having to motivate yourself all the time? That’s exhausting. You have a reason to be tired Bri. Okay?” 

Suddenly, he was crying. Tears ran down his reddened cheeks and embarrassment burned in his stomach, but Roger reached out and wiped them away, smiling reassuringly. Brian inhaled shakily. 

“I don’t have a reason to have whatever this is, though. I don’t. I didn’t have a hard time growing up or anything, i’m just fucking making things up and making myself look like the victim and-“

“Brian! Shut up! You know that’s not true!” Roger said, frustrated.  
“You aren’t ‘’making things up’, you are genuinely struggling! And you don’t need a fucking reason to feel like shit sometimes! You don’t need a reason to feel emotions! And either way you know damn well you have reasons! College and astrophysics is fucking stressful! And even more when you aren’t motivated enough to do what you love! And didn’t you tell me that your grandmother was bipolar?” Roger ranted, sending pleading looks to Brian. Brian’s jaw fell.

“When...when did i tell you that?” He said, his voice barely there. Roger pressed his lips together nervously. 

“You were drunk one night after a show and told me.” 

Brian groaned. “Of course.” He whimpered, and buried his face in his hands. Roger put his hand on his thigh sadly, stroking it with his thumb. Brian bit his tongue.

“Brian...cmon. It isn’t going to make me hate you, i mean, you told me that months ago, and nothing had changed between you and me.” He said sincerely. 

Brian shook his head.  
“Right. Well, now you know. My whole family is insane.” 

Roger slapped his knee lightly, and even though Brian wasn’t religious, he thanked god silently that it wasn’t his thigh again.

“Take it back.”

Brian chuckled, looking up at Roger “Fine.”

Roger huffed.

“And besides, if i was in your position, would you be calling me crazy?”

Brian stayed silent. He would never. He wasn’t even sure what he would say. He was never good at talking and comforting others. 

Roger, Freddie and John always knew what to say. How did they do it? 

“I...Thank you.” He whispered, not sure what to say. 

Roger patted his back lovingly and smiled shyly. 

“Get some sleep Bri. You deserve it.” 

Brian nodded and Roger sent him one last smile before he got up, turning off the lamp on the way. 

Brian laid back and smiled to himself. He felt very calm and loved. Tomorrow was going to be a better day. He could feel it. 

He would be happy 

With that thought in mind, he let himself drift off to sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was wrong. He would never be happy.

As the morning light seeped through his eyelids, he already sensed a feeling of absolute, raw self loathing. He opened his eyes and blinked tiredly. 

‘Get up. Now. Before it gets worse.’ 

‘No. NO.’

He tried moving his arm to lift himself up, but somehow, his body didn’t obey him. It was like he didn’t have any energy whatsoever. 

‘Look at yourself. You can’t even fucking get up from your bed. You think you reached rock bottom? Look at yourself now.’ The back of his mind taunted him.

‘I know. I know.’ He responded back. 

He didn’t even have the energy to cry. 

It was like he had gone numb from all emotions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours later, Brian still hadn’t made an attempt to move. His mind was screaming thoughts of hatred towards him, and he couldn’t bring himself to fight back. 

It was all true anyways.

Never in his life had he wanted to die this badly. He was beginning to think this whole plan was useless. Death is death. And he wanted it now. He couldn’t last another second. 

But he couldn’t even get up and walk towards the pill cabinet. 

Brain knew that if he could manage emotions, he would be crying. Why was everything hard? Why was he like this? Why did he feel this way? For what reason? 

Everything was fine yesterday. More than fine. What changed?

‘Nothing. You just realized that none of this matters anyways. They’re going to forget about you if you kill yourself anyways. You’re NOT that special.’

He’s not that special. He really wasn’t. 

‘You’re not special. You’re a bother. You’re useless. You’re too emotional. You’re NOT IMPORTAN-‘

“Brian...?”

Brian eyes opened weakly at the sound of john’s voice. He managed a little nod, and john stayed silent.

He heard the door open and close again. John must have left. 

‘He must have finally realized there’s no hope for you. He must want you to die. See? You’ll be fine. You won’t be hurting anyone.’

Brian continued staring at the wall.

5 minutes later he heard the door open again, and he blinked. A blurry figure slowly came to view and he blinked a few more times. 

Taking up almost all of the little energy he had, he forced his head upwards and saw john giving him a small, sad smile.

“Hey. I got you lunch.” He said quietly. Brian’s eyes traveled downwards and saw a piece of toast with avocado and tomato on it. He looked up at john and stared at him blankly. He wanted to say thank you. 

‘Say it. Say it. Muster up the little energy it takes to say it you ungrateful bastard.’

“Thanks.” He said hoarsely. His voice sounded horrible, as if it hadn’t been used in decades. John blinked, and nodded. 

“Of course.” He said, and he placed the plate down onto his nightstand. 

“It’s there if you want it...” He spoke softly, nodding his head towards the food. Brian gave a little sound of understanding and john nodded his head solemnly.

It was silent for a moment, then john sighed.

“You’re not alone, mate.” He whispered, and Brian looked back up at him. “We’re here for you. always. We’ll do anything to help you. We love you, with all our hearts.”

Brian was quiet. His mouth went dry and the next thing he knew he was choking out the words. 

“You don’t have to.”

The corners of johns mouth turned downwards and his eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re not loving you because we have to, Bri, there’s no force here. No, love can’t be forced. We love you because you lovable. We love your wild curly hair a-and your kindness, and your sense of humor, and the way you play the guitar with so much passion, and i could go on and on Brian! That’s why we love you, because you care for us and we care for you.” 

“Fuck.” He whimpered, distressed, and Deaky just stroked his hair and leaned down to kiss his head, a rare display of affection shown by the bassist. 

He had never hated himself like he did right now. 

He knew what he was planning. He knew what he was doing, the constant stinging in his thighs reminded him of that every second of the day. 

Everything was wrong. It was confusing. One part of him wanted to end it right now, knowing he didn’t matter and nobody cared for him, But another part of him said ‘wait.’. He knew suicide would hurt his friends, make them feel like they were to late to help him. He didn’t want to bother and hurt them with his selfishness.

“I can see you want to be alone, Brian. But....Just know we’re always here for you, okay? We want to help you.” Johns voice cut through his thoughts. Brian sniffled and nodded his head sluggishly. John was right. He did want to be alone, and besides, he didn’t want to waste anymore of John’s time.

John stood up, the bed shifting from the loss of weight, and he stopped. 

“And...” He continued. “I know it’s very hard right now, but if you get up, come find us, okay? No pressure, though.”

John smiled and stroked his hair one last time before turning on his heel and walking out, leaving Brian alone once again. 

Brian started at the spot that john was sitting in. 

A sudden feeling of emptiness filled him and he closed his eyes before it could get more intense.

It didn’t go away. For the next hour he felt as though any second he would break down and cry. It was too much. 

With new found energy, he sat up, eyes turning to look at the drawer under the plate of abandoned food. 

He found himself rummaging through it, picking up the shard of glass he had found so calming the other day. 

His thighs were filled with cuts, but he didn’t care. He was sure he could find a patch of skin that didn’t ache. He sat against the headboard, staring at his thighs. Sure enough, he found that his lower thighs were clean. 

One slash was all it took before Brian lost himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roger sighed as he tried concentrating on the homework in front of him. No use. He would never get it done. He stood up, the chair skidding behind him and his eyes trailed over to the room Brian and him shared.

Roger felt a sense of sadness fill him. Brian has not come out all day. He went in there an hour ago to check on him, and there he was, sleeping soundly.

Roger felt a frown tug his features down. Brian clearly didn’t realize the extent of their affections towards him. How was it? Did he not think he was enough? 

Roger shuddered. He hope- No, he knew- brian was smart enough to realize that these struggles he endured would not last, no matter how long. 

Oh how Roger wanted to just make it go away. He hated seeing Brian like this. So sad and hopeless. Tired and depressed. If Roger could switch places with him he would do it in heartbeat. Anything for him.

He started walking towards the room, overwhelmed with emotion and just wanting to hold the poodle tight and tell him everything would be okay.

He certainly didn’t expect to see said poodle sitting against the headboard, breathing erratic. 

A sense of alarm quickly filled him and he couldn’t help but yelp out ‘Holy shit!’ 

He was by his side in a second, holding the trembling guitarist. Brian wasn’t crying, but from what he could tell, it was definitely a panic attack. 

“Brian? Can you hear me? It’s me, it’s Roger. ” He said gently.

Brian just looked up at him blankly through thick lashes, confusion evident on his face, and his breathing didn’t slow. Roger bit his lip. He probably didn’t even realize he was having a panic attack. 

“Brian? Brian, you’re having a panic attack, you need to slow down your breathing. Inhale when i say in, and exhale when i say out, can you do that for me?”

Brian nodded. 

“Okay. good. In.....and out....In......and out...”

Slowly but surely, Brian’s frantic breathing began to slow and subdue into breathing that stuttered ever few inhales. The trembling didn’t stop, and Roger could only take Brians hand and massage it lovingly.

“There. Good job.” He smiled gently at him. Brian just continued looking at him with the same blank stare he had when he was having the panic attack. Roger’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. 

“Brian...are you okay?”

A beat of silence. Then—

“I’m fine.”

Roger shook his head at the nonsense spilling from brian’s mouth. 

“No. What happened?” He tried again. Brian shrugged. 

“Just another one of my cra-“

“If the next word to come from your mouth is the word ‘crazy.’ , I’M gonna go crazy.” Roger said, his temper rising. Why was Brian always insisting at the fact that he was crazy? It made Roger want to scream. 

“Well what do you want me to say?” Brian whispered and Roger looked him in the eye to answer, but at the sight of him, his heart fell. This man looked so exhausted. There were bags under his eyes and his eyes were blood shot and barely open. 

“Oh Brian.” He said, his voice soft, and in a second he had the other man in a hug, his hands running through Brian’s poofy, unruly hair. Brian was limp against him, just letting himself get hugged. 

“What did you do to deserve this?” The words were out of Rogers mouth before he could stop then and he blushed. He sounded so sentimental. 

“No more lies from you. I won’t allow it. No more saying you’re crazy and saying you’re fine. I don’t even want to hear it. Either way, you can’t change my mind, ok? You...you know how i can get and...i’ll just bug you until you understand it...Got it?” He said firmly. 

Brian was quiet, then Roger slowly felt arms wrap around him weakly. He smiled. Brian was trying. And that’s what mattered. 

Pulling away a bit,he sent brian another grin. Brian tried smiling shyly back, and Rogers heartbeat jumped in the slightest. 

“Your...your hair’s all over the place.” Roger teased and he moved a strand from out of Brian’s eyes. Brian blinked and his smile widened, barely, but it still did. 

When did they get so close? God, Roger never got nervous, but this was Brian. Biting his lip and looking down nervously, He noticed the space between them get smaller...

“DARLINGS I’M FUCKING HOME! GET READY TO HEAR ABOUT THIS ABSOLUTE MORON THAT TRIED TO GET FIESTY WITH ME. WHEW I’M PUMPED, I DON’T THINK IVE EVER BEEN SO MAD.”

Roger and Brian both jumped at the sound of Freddie’s screams. Brian let out a little hiss, And Roger became concerned for approximately one second before annoyance filled him. Forget freddie being mad, he didn’t think he had ever been so disappointed. 

“I should uh...” He swallowed, his throat dry. “See what happened to this git.” 

Brian opened his mouth, closed it, and chuckled weakly. 

“Uh...Yea. You- You go do that..”

“Okay.” Roger said a little to quickly. “Well, call out if you need anything... I would need an excuse to stop listening to Fred’s rants.” 

Brian nodded, bringing the sheets up again, and Roger sent him one last awkward smile before turning and leaving the room.

‘Oh god. Nice one.’ He groaned to himself ‘Real smooth.’ 

He walked towards the living room, accompanying a bored looking John, and a extremely wound up Freddie.

“This better be good.” He grumbled quietly. “I almost made a move on him.”

Freddie gasped dramatically and let out a drawn out groan.

“No! God, fuck, how do i go back in time?” He cried out emotionally. Roger just smacked his arm and he let out a yelp.

“You deserve it Fred.” John chided disapprovingly. Freddie huffed and crossed his arms.

“I know, i know.” He whined. Roger couldn’t help but laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laying back in the bed, Brian’s mind kept repeating that moment over and over again.

They were so close to...something. What had happened? Roger had looked so shy and then suddenly they were close and...just like that, the moment was gone. 

Brian felt disappointment for a slight second, then his emotions shut down again. 

He felt nothing. Life, death, it didn’t matter right now. No thoughts, no feelings. 

His eyes stayed glued to the ceiling and he inhaled deeply, feeling his whole body shift upward, then fall in relaxation, enjoying the silence for what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys followed my advise and re read the last chapter or you will have been very confused :), but if you didn’t, basically the change i made is that instead of brian using heroin, poor brian ended up smashing a vase and cutting himself. I felt as though this would have been more logical, because brian was not the type of person to use drugs. I know that there isn’t one specific type of person to use drugs, and that anyone can fall into it, but after reading quiet a few interviews, i decided that yea, brian would not be the type of person to use HEROIN. 
> 
> But, i still have the heroin version, so if you guys would much rather prefer that one, i will change it back :( 
> 
> anyways i also want to apologize for the late chapter, this took some WORK, and i also had to update the last one. Sorry! Hope the slight maylor scene made up for it ;) 
> 
> Don’t forget to comment and leave kudos! <3 Buh-Bye!


	5. wish me sweet dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian has a little- well, okay. A terrifying nightmare.

Brian was running, frantic, his breaths coming in short gasps. 

It’s okay. it’s okay. Where was he? Where were they? He needed to find them. 

He needed them.

Brian squinted his eyes. It was bright. There was nothing but white, empty space, but he wouldn’t give up. 

Suddenly, He couldn’t move as easily as he could. Something was holding him back. Brian tried putting one foot in front of the other. It didn’t work. Anxiety shot through him. What was happening?

“ROGER? FREDDIE? JOHN?” He screamed, his voice scratchy. 

“Mom? Dad?” He whispered. 

The white light gave away, the rooms color seeping to black. Brian breathing didn’t slow down, and his head snapped towards a patch of white light.

He forced his leg upward. It was hard. It was so fucking hard. But brian didn’t stop. He saw a figure. There! It was Freddie! Crying out in strain, he kept walking, towards the figure. 

Closer.

And closer.

And closer.

“Freddie.” He whispered, horror struck.

Freddie was sitting there, Pressing a needle into his arm. 

Heroin.

Freddie looked up at him and smiled lazily.

“Oh...Hello darling...I’m...I’m sorry. I just needed something...anything...to help me.” He whispered, his words slurred together.

“Freddie...” He whispered again, his throat insanely dry. “No. No. That’s...that’s bad.”

“Really?” Freddie said, his eyelids drooping. “Why don’t you take a look at Roger? I’m sure you can tell him the same thing?”

And with that he curled onto himself and closed his eyes. 

Brian was panicking. He looked around wildly, looking for another patch of light. 

There.

It was easier this time, his legs actually listened to him. Brian didn’t think he could ever be so grateful. He walked as fast as he could to the patch of light, cold sweat dripping down his back. 

‘Please. Please let him be okay.’ 

The thought played in a loop, never ending until he reached the white light. 

Roger was walking towards him. Brian swallowed. It wasn’t walking, it was stumbling. He held a glass bottle in his left hand, holding out his hand and grabbing Brian’s shoulder, putting his full weight onto him. Brian grabbed him and lowered him to the ground.

“Hey...” Roger said, smiling up at him. “You look better...i...”

Without warning, Roger turned around and threw up onto the floor. Panic overtook him and he tugged Rogers hair back, trying desperately to help him. 

“This...You can’t...Your hurting yourself. ” Brian blurted out before he could stop himself. Roger looked up and glared at him weakly.

“Is that what i’m doing?” He whispered hoarsely. He lifted a trembling hand and pointed to a small figure. Brian’s heart jumped.

“You know what to do.” Roger said firmly, then without warning, passed out into brian’s arms.

Brian paled, laying rogers head down gently on the floor, and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He looked so peaceful. 

He stood up shakily and turned his attention towards the tiny figure. This time he ran.

What he saw next made his blood run cold.

It was john. There was blood running down his wrists and there was a knife held tightly in his hands. 

“John. No.” He choked out. He saw neat, red lines along the bassists trembling wrists. John looked up with a smile.

“It’s okay. It helps. There’s no need to worry.” He said soothingly. Brian let out a sob at the sight of Johns pale face. It looked like there was barely a drop of blood left in him.

And the little he had left was gushing out of his wrists onto the floor.

“You’re killing yourself.” Brian cried softly. John shrugged.

“...I’m not. They are.” John said, pointing to another 2 figures in the distance. 

“No. No. I can’t.” Brian gasped. John glared at him.

“You can. You owe them that much.” He said softly, looking down and stroking the cuts on his wrists. 

Fat tears rolled down brian’s cheeks.

“You’ll be okay deaky. I promise.” He said, his bottom lip trembling. 

Deaky frowned sadly towards him, then looked away to the distance. 

Brian couldn’t take the heartbreak. He turned, running to the two figures. He needed to see who they were. What they were doing. 

He needed this to stop.

As the two people slowly came into view, his heart soared. 

“Mom. Dad.” He whispered. He went around the to face them, and frowned at their faces. They looked sad. Dead. Miserable.

“...Mom? What’s wrong?” He said. His mom reached out and stroked brian’s cheek with her thumb.

“I’m sorry Brian. We have to.” 

“What?” Brian breathed, worried. “Dad? What does she mean?”

“Sorry Brian.” His dad said sadly, his voice emotionless. “We love you.” 

Two shots rang out.

“NO!” Brian screamed. Tears ran down his cheeks too quickly and he gagged, disgusted and horror filled. His parents’ bodies collapsed to the ground. 

“MOM! DAD!” He sobbed again, his throat raw from the intensity of his screams.

So this is what John had meant. But they didn’t kill themselves, right? 

Unless...

“Oh god.” He whispered, terrified. “Please. You can’t be serious.” 

“Do it.” He heard chants around him. Brian shut his eyes. It was a wonder that the tears still escaped.

He turned around slowly, and looked up.

There, lowering a gun, was his grandmother. 

She looked young. Like how she had looked in the old,faded photographs that his mother showed him. Tight, black curls fell over her chocolate brown eyes and she wore a somber expression. 

“Grandma.” He said, his voice small, morphed by tears.

“Why did you do that?” 

His grandmother just shook her head, a frown tugging the corners of her plump lips.

“It was too much, Brian. Understand?” She said carefully. Brian shook his head, his head throbbing.

“Why would you do it? Didn’t you...Didn’t you want better for them?” He whimpered. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

“They were desperate. It poisons the mind. You should know.” She said. 

Then, she turned the gun towards him. Brian’s eyes widened.

Yet, he made no attempt to stop her. 

“It’ll be alright brian.” She smiled softly. “Everything’s better after your dead.”

And she pulled the trigger.

Everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brian woke up with a start, his chest moving up and down wildly as he tried to take control of his breaths. He blinked, confused. 

The lights were on, and there were hushed whispers and a hand running down his arm. He sat up, his whole body trembling and sweating. He whimpered. His head was pounding, it felt as though someone had stabbed two knives through it. His hand went to hold forehead before another colder hand removed it, and placed itself in it’s place.

“You’re burning up, Bri.” He heard a distant, soft voice say. Brian looked up and saw Roger. Great. What had he done now? 

“What?” He said, his voice scratchy and throat hurting. He tried swallowing, but his throat was extremely dry. 

“Here.” He heard Roger say, placing something cold in his hand. A water bottle. Brian immediately grabbed it and started chugging it, enjoying the feeling of the cool liquid falling through his throat. 

He felt the hand pull the water bottle back slightly. Brian removed it and frowned. Roger shook his head.

“Slow down. You’ll choke.”

“Sorry.” He whispered. Roger smiled. 

“It’s okay Brian.”

Brian went back to drinking, slower this time, finishing the water. 

He took stuttering breaths and he felt a hand run down his arm. He looked up to see Roger staring at him as if studying him. 

“Brian...” He started “You were talking in your sleep...you seemed really upset...is there anything you want to talk about?” 

Oh. The dream.

That dream had been horrible. He didn’t think he would ever forget it for as long as he lived. The sight of his friends losing themselves to horrible habits? The sight of his parents, dead? The sight of his grandmother turning the gun on him?

He shuddered. But, it all fit. 

It was what he was doing to himself. 

He was close to taking the heroin. He drank until he forgot all his sorrows. He cut himself raw.

He WANTED the gun turned on him.

That’s why he didn’t move. 

Brian forced his breathing to slow down, and sent a reassuring, very fake smile to Roger.

“Oh yea, i’m good, i don’t even remember what the dream was about. It’s okay, you can go back to bed.” Brian said nonchalantly, voice betraying him and wavering.

Roger narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I don’t believe you.” 

Brian shrugged, acting as though bored.

“You don’t have to.” He faked a yawn “I’m...i’m pretty tired...i think i’m going to go back to sleep.” 

“Bri...” Roger insisted, but brian was already on his side, back turned away from him and tears blurring his vision.

“Goodnight Roger.”

A minutes later he heard the bed creek and shift, and saw the light turn off. 

Brian didn’t sleep again that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Thursday. 

Saturday was so, so close. 

Brian was generally a very patient person, but he was ready to shove his way to Saturday. 

It could not come sooner. 

At one point in the day, he had so much anxiety, he had to excuse himself for a ‘second’, barging his way into the room and grabbing the shard of glass hastily.

As he sat on the tile of the restroom and stared at his thighs, which were bruised and puffy, filled with angry red lines.

There was barely a square of healthy skin left on his thighs, and at this point, Brian could hardly care. 

He started cutting on the side of his thighs, which was the only place he could cut on for now, enjoying the sweet pain. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. And Brian loved it.

Then he stopped.

The image of John flashed in his mind. John. Poor John looking so pale and dead, smiling up to him. Bleeding.

“Shit.” He whispered to himself, putting his face in his hands, more than frustrated. He couldn’t even do this right, could he? 

‘Do it. Finish the fucking job. Do it.’ 

Lifting the shard of glass hastily, he became angry. So, so angry.

With absolute fury bubbling in his stomach, he raised the shard, and stabbed it into his thigh.

He stopped, jolting up at the sudden ache. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. The side of his thigh began pulsing painfully and he let out a sharp gasp.

When he thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, he heard a knock on the door.

“Brian...? Are you okay darling?” He heard freddie say worriedly. He bit his lip, feeling a bit under pressure. Freddie probably thought he was doing something to hurt himself. Well, he wasn’t wrong. 

Holding back a moan of pain, he nodded, before realizing Freddie couldn’t see that and forcing his mouth to move.

“Yea, i’m fine. Just thought i saw a spider and almost cut myself shaving.” He lied smoothly.

“Okay...Well...Be careful.” Freddie said, obviously more relieved, and he waited for the footsteps to fade away before letting out a pained breath.

He looked at his thigh, which was bright red around the shard of glass and grabbed onto it. He took a deep breath, pulling it out and holding back another moan of pain. 

The wound immediately started bleeding, and Brian bit his lip. He grabbed some toilet paper and desperately pressed it to the wound, wincing in pain. 

He stared at his thighs, still holding his hand to the wound and his face twisted into an expression of worry. 

Hurt and bleeding on the floor, Brian wondered when his life got so fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi? Are you guys dead :)? Do you like this story? Do you like this chapter? Let me know! <3

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! make sure to comment i love comments  
> I’ll try to update every few days but i abandon fics really easily :( i’m gonna try real hard with this one tho !


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